The Reunion
by muse's blood
Summary: Anders lost everything for the cause, or so he'd believed...


The abandoned cottage he'd found in a wooded area between the far-flung cities of the Free Marches hadn't been much to look at. Just a single room with barely any furnishings and a modest fireplace to keep out the chill. But once he'd made some repairs to the roof and cleaned out the chimney, he found it livable enough. Besides, there was a certain comfort in the boring routine he settled into, in the rote nature of the daily household chores, and in the omnipresent quiet of the place. After all, wasn't this everything he'd wanted, once upon a time? To just be left alone to live a simple life in peace?

Of course, that had changed, over the years, but he nonetheless tried to remember what he _used_ to want. Used to _be_ like. After everything that had happened, it was all he had left. Everything he'd once fought for was no longer his battle to fight. It belonged to the world now. Perhaps he'd been the one to start the fire, but he couldn't control the now-raging inferno it was. All he could do now was stand back, watch it burn, and hope the outcome was everything he'd hoped for.

Occasionally, though, he quietly wished it could have been otherwise. That a peaceful solution could have been found. In those moments, he felt guilt for living a life of peace while so many were embroiled in war. Some days, he would reconsider his life. Wonder if he shouldn't join the fight once more. But he knew better than to believe anyone wanted him on their side anymore. Point in fact, the last group of rebels he'd been a part of had coldly asked him to leave. All his power, his talent, his desire to help the cause, meant nothing to them anymore. He's been cast out, left to live or die on his own.

Since brooding over it helped nothing, he would find solace in manual labor. Today, that meant chopping wood. There was an abundance of it in the area, so he never had to go without a fire, but he'd been running low and felt particularly moody that morning. Leaving his coat inside so he wouldn't be too warm for his efforts, he began swinging the ax, splitting thick logs down the center, lifting and lowering the tool with considerable effort. By the time he stopped for a break, his shirt clung to his body from the sweat he'd worked up, a neat pile of wood lying next to the chopping block.

Wiping his brow, his eyes gazing absently into the treeline, he suddenly was reminded of something and didn't know why. A dark time in his life, darker than even before he'd come to be in the Free Marches, back in Ferelden. Frowning at the memories of monsters lurking deep beneath the earth, of pitched battles where survival had hung by a slender thread, of the grime and disease and filth of it all, he shuddered faintly. No sooner had the chill passed up his spine than he realized the reason he recalled it. There was a faint tingle in his blood, a minor burning in his veins. He could sense something.

When he felt it approach from high in the air, he turned his eyes upward in time to see a raven flapping its wings against the sun peeking through the tree branches. It was sick, he could feel it, with an illness no amount of healing would cure. Knowing there was nothing he could do for the creature, short of killing it, he watched carefully in case it decided to land. When it slowly but impatiently descended to the ground before him, letting out a soft cawing noise, he began to gradually approach, intent on snapping its neck once he had it in his grasp.

As soon as he was a mere two steps away, however, the bird began to glow with a soft luminescent magic. His eyes widening, he stepped back more in disbelief than fear, as he murmured a long-forgotten name: "Solona."

Bit by bit, her form emerged, until she was standing before him, the last of the glow fading from her velvety lips as they mournfully smiled at him, the luminescence barely present as she spoke. "Miss me?"

Staring at her, the tears started forming in large drops, hanging from his eyelids. By the time the first one involuntarily fell, her arms were wrapped around him tenderly, her head nestled in his neck. Hardly daring to believe this was real, that she'd come after all this time, that it was as if they'd never parted for a moment, he could scarcely return the embrace. When his trembling hands finally came around her, the tears were raining down in torrents as he brought his lips to her ear to whisper, "I'm sorry."

"I know." She told him in a quiet sigh. "So am I."

"Why?" He cried helplessly into her hair. "Why have you returned _now_?"

"Because I need you." Solona softly spoke as she pulled her head back to look at him, her eyes as alluring as they'd ever been. "I tried, Anders. I tried for _years_. But every moment since we've parted, I've just been so _empty_."

Her confession took him by surprise. He'd never expected her to feel this way. He'd believed, once he was gone, she would grieve, then move on. After all, she was not only beautiful, but powerful, wealthy, and well-respected. She'd never lacked for would-be suitors. He'd heard the rumors about her disappearance, but suspected she was either dead, or had simply grown fed up with the Wardens. He had no reason to believe she'd be looking for him. Especially after what he'd done in Kirkwall. Most people, theirs included, were furious with him. Branded a known terrorist, he was universally reviled by all. All, it seemed, except Solona Amell. Now, staring wide-eyed into her hopeful gaze, his tears beginning to dry, the overwhelming shock began to wear off. He'd always thought he had to give her up, to sacrifice what they had for the sake of a greater cause. But, apparently, he'd been wrong.

Still, he had reason to be skeptical as he warned her, "I'm not the same man you remember, Solona."

"Am I the same woman _you_ remember?" She replied, raising an eyebrow. "People change, Anders, but the way I feel about you hasn't. Tell me you no longer feel the same way, and I'll go. But if there's even a _chance_ we could be together again..."

Unable to resist what he felt any longer, his lips fell to her hair, then her forehead, then all over her face, before they finally rested on her own. Her mouth opened to him, and the rush he felt when their tongues began sliding against one another left him breathless. While their kissing gradually became more urgent, their hands beginning to move up and down each other's bodies, he began to forget the long years apart, the loneliness he'd felt for ages. All of his hesitation left him. Pulling her more firmly into him by the waist as they languidly began to hum into the next kiss, he shuddered when he felt her lower body press into his. He needed this. They both did. He'd forgotten how much, but as their actions became hungry with desire, he was remembering again.

Parting from her luscious lips for air, he murmured over them, "We should go inside."

Before she could answer him, he found himself picking her up, carrying her through the door of the cottage. Lowering her to the bed, he leaned over her body to kiss her again, his hand gliding into her hair to touch the soft, shoulder-length waves. Feeling her hands begin to slide up his legs to his backside, he responded in turn, pulling the fabric of her robes up as he went before resting his palms on the exposed flesh of her hips. Her neck arched out of the next kiss, an impatient sound leaving her throat. Feeling no more patient than she did, the ache between his legs threatening to overwhelm him, he brought his lips to the supple skin of her throat as one of his fingers grazed up between her legs to touch the silky folds between them. The sound of her moan as he began running his forefinger lightly in her slick made him feel even more incensed than before. Moving his free hand to unlace his breaches, he groaned when her own hand moved over to touch the bulge he was trying to work free. Continuing to elicit pleasured noises from her by stimulating her folds, he was relieved when he was finally able to slide his breaches down around his knees, exposing his cock.

Solona's fingers grazed over it, causing him to shudder, before she took it firmly in hand. With a low rumble from his chest, he kept his eyes trained on her face, almost as aroused at the sight of her devastating looks as he was over the way she began milking his cock. Continuing to stimulate one another slowly, he felt pleasure, but was nonetheless in a hurry to feel her heat. Doing his best to focus on her needs first, he slid his thumb up to her clit while gently pushing two fingers inside her. Curling them, he then began to circle his thumb, which only caused her to grip his cock more tightly. Gasping from the way she was making it throb and twitch in her hand, he refused to be distracted. His own part only enticed him more, for she was so hot and wet around his fingers, the scent of her musk drifting up to his nostrils so inviting, and the flush on her cheeks so beautiful. Watching with a determined stare as her eyes rolled back into her head, her arm beginning to tremble as she stroked him, he began to purposely shake his hand from side to side.

After a few moments of her chest heaving with want, her head thrashing, her back arching and her pelvis thrusting into his hand, she began to cry out, "Yes, Anders, yes!"

Releasing his cock, her hands flew into her hair as her body began to shake, a surge of wetness covering his hand, a nonsensical wail leaving her. Knowing it was now or never, he positioned himself between her open legs, letting his cock glide up and down in her folds, occasionally pressing it into her clit, bringing it down to her entrance to tempt her, then sliding it around again. When she wrapped her legs around him, sliding her hips to bring him closer to her cunt, he began to slide just the tip inside her. Then, in a tender voice, asked her, "Are you ready?"

Nodding frantically, a pleading whine came from her throat as her eyes opened, glassy and wide, to gaze into his own. In unison, they let out a long groan as he slowly pressed up into her until he could feel he'd filled her. Holding deep inside to experience the heat of her cunt as it folded and quivered around him, he was tempted to cum on the spot. Feeling his cock begin to throb more intensely against her walls, he began gently sliding back and then deep again. Remembering how she enjoyed feeling stretched, he began to slowly thrust in circles, entering her at various angles to press against the hungry muscles of her cunt. On the edge of losing control when her cunt became more hungry for him, he panted heavily as he focused on making it last. She wasn't making it easy. Her cunt was just so...active. More than that, her body began to move into his on every pass, taking him deeper than he'd initially allowed himself to go.

"Harder!" She began to make demands, her cunt all but devouring him now. "Make me _feel_ it!"

He felt something inside him snap as he leaned forward and began to jerk his hips more firmly into his thrusts. His cock was beginning to twitch, and the lusty cries of pleasure ringing in his ear heightened his senses. Soon, he was not only hammering into her with all his strength, he'd increased his tempo to a frenzy. The noise from both of them became savage while he continued to thrust deep and hard into her heat, her limbs wrapped around him, gripping his body, her cunt a glorious, spasming, threat to his ability to withstand the pleasure. Feeling harder and more aroused than he ever had in his life, he felt a sudden desire to make the ecstasy that much greater. Lowering his fingers to her clit, he began to gently stimulate the tiny pearl while he continued his wild thrusts. With a series of loud shouts, her cunt became impossibly hot, waves of wetness surging from her body, his cock held deep within a rolling clench of muscles.

Cumming in spurts immediately from the sensation, feeling his seed flow through his cock in a dizzying rush, her cunt milking him dry as the hot jets of semen flooded her walls, he threw his head back with a heavy groan which rumbled up from the deepest part of his chest. After a few moments of his pulsing cock slowing to a gentle twitch, he felt his body involuntarily go slack. Collapsing onto the mattress next to her, watching her shudders subside, he gently moved a hair out of her face before he told her, "I'm glad you came back."

"So am I." She smiled softly with an expression as amused as it was content. "I hope you don't mind if I stay."

"If you hadn't offered, I would have asked." He chuckled knowingly before his expression became serious again. "And, yes, I've missed you." Throwing his arms around her, holding her close, he added, "I've missed you more than you'll ever know."


End file.
